Housebreaking the Saiyans
by darkakavege
Summary: Bulma wants Goku to teach Vegeta some docility. WARNING: lots of non-consensual yaoi madness. Dark and angsty.


A piercing pain pulled him back to awareness. It took him a moment to realize his eyes were already open. The darkness was absolute. A few seconds of disorientation passed before the memories returned: the irritating Kai, Babbidi and his spell, the fight with Kakarot, a sudden piercing agony…And then this: a dark cold room that stank of steel.  
There was something locked around each of his wrists; it was metal, and yet strong enough to resist his attempts to yank them off. Confused, Vegeta traced their smooth surface and found two tiny holes and a set of long barely perceptible fissures. A thick flexible tube protruded from each wrist-band. They hung loosely at his sides, meeting their end high in the wall. Someone-or something- had presumed possible to shackle the most powerful force in the Universe to a simple wall.

Vegeta snorted, and his lips twisted in a feral grin. He could already see the shocked faces of his captors as he emerged from their cage in a glorious cloud of fire and smoke; his nostrils flared, thirsting for the smell of terror and spilled blood. He flexed his muscles and yanked.  
The cables grew taunt.

"..."

Now annoyed, Vegeta yanked harder. The cuffs and cables held tight. Now enraged for having to put so much effort on something so mundane, he powered up, intent on blasting the entire place to nothing. The energy-or "chi", as Earthlings called it- burnt within him...and only within him. The air in the room remained cold and still. The darkness continued to embrace him impudently.

Rage turned to fear in a heartbeat. He was trapped. As his mind frantically searched for some kind of explanation- from which a solution would spawn- he noticed something odd: a sensation at the low of his back. Even though it was gone, he had never stopped feeling his tail. In a weird way, it was easy to forget it wasn't there anymore. But now, that faint tingling had been replaced by pressure and warmth. Certain it was just the adrenaline intoxicating his bloodstream, he tried to move it. Something soft and furry brushed his legs.

His child-like mirth died rather fast. There was something metallic latched to the sensitive base…and all around his wrist. A belt…?

Another sudden, unexpected realization: he was fucking naked...save for his undignifying restraints.

"Did Kakarot kill me?" He wondered, talking just to hear another voice. A subconscious attempt to appease himself, harvested throughout lonely dangerous years. "Am I in Hell...?"

A sudden loud beep resounded in the room, startling him to attention and silencing every thought. His brain paid attention only to the senses, and the information they brought: a buzzing in the dark; the salty scent of another man's flesh. And a sudden piercing light. Snarling in pain and shock, Vegeta covered his eyes and flattened against the wall. But his other senses remained vigilant. They were washed by a familiar chi that set his blood to boil, followed by that stench...

Vegeta opened his eyes, his rage drowning the searing pain of sudden light exposure. Kakarot stood a few feet away, shadowed by the glare of the white light burning behind him. As he approached, he noticed that the shameless bastard was wearing his armor! His indignant protests died on his throat as he looked up. Kakarot's stupid goofy face was hardened in an expression so typical of war-forged saiyans that Vegeta immediately suspected trickery. Before him, there could be a wolf dressed as a sheep…

Kakarot grinned, separated his legs to ground himself and raised tightly closed fists. His chi started rising, a golden aura igniting around him like an infernal fire. His dark eyes flared to a light green and his hair stood on end, hardening in glowing spikes...and then it grew, longer and longer until its own weight forced it down. Vegeta gaped at the sight. The intimidating visage of his enemy couldn't be compare to the terrifying presence of his power. It seemed to bite into his bones; it was sucking the air of the room, invading his lugs, squeezing his heart…

Without a word, Kakarot approached him. He lifted a hand and issued a lazy slap to each of Vegeta's cheeks. There was barely any force behind the blows. It was an attack aimed at the ego, not the body.

His common sense drowned by rage, Vegeta jumped and threw a brutal kick to Goku's neck, trying with all his might to break it in two. The blow impacted flawlessly on its mark...but it failed to do any damage at all. There wasn't even time to feel terror. Kakarot seized his throat and slammed him against the wall. Their noses inches apart, he finally spoke, and there was no trace of mockery on his words.

"You will learn your place, Vegeta." The nightmarish moment was over as soon as it started. Goku's chi dropped a ridiculous low, the golden fire banished and Vegeta was left alone in his dark, cold corner. His attacker was walking away, merging back into the blinding light. "Try to rest more. I'll bring you food later."

The door slid shut, leaving behind only darkness and a disorientated shackled saiyan.

Goku slumped against the door as it clanged shut. He was trembling all over. Before entering that room, he had been so worried about being unable to act as required. And now he felt sick by how easy it had been. That rage came so hard and so fast...

"You did well, Son-kun. I'm proud of you."

Bulma's voice helped him snap out of his shock. He looked at her. She was sitting in front of some computers, a gentle smile gracing her small lips. The familiar sight was somewhat soothing...but there was still something off about it. Her eyes...They were always so dull now...She looked so old…He looked away and scratched the back of his head.

"Are you sure this is what Shenron meant? That was wrong, Bulma..."

"It's the only way, Son-kun." Bulma sighed, rising from the chair. "Please, stop fighting it. It'll be over before you know it."

"He won't forgive me..."

"He will when he's free of Babbidi's spell...Now come. I ordered some food." She pressed her hand against his back and Goku assumed she was trying to push him out of the room. He started walking. "If I send you back home with an empty stomach, Chi-chi will come at me with a scythe."

"She would never do to that, Bulma."

"I know, honey. I know..."

"...honey...You talk like a grandma."

"..."

Bulma entered the kitchen as Goku waited with her mother and father in the dining room. Usually, a maiden served dinner, but now that was her duty. No-one could know the CEO of Capsule Corporation was drugging one of her friends.

Drugging; the word was poison to her conscience. She tried to find a better one even as she took the hormone compound from her pocket and emptied a few drops on Goku's entry soup. She found none.

Guilt was a constant companion now-a-days; a parasite slowly gnawing at her heart, opening holes and ripping the flesh to replace blood with its venom. But although empathy and love withered and trembled, the rational mind remained strong and focused. It replayed over and over the horrors it had seen: the raise of the androids, the execution of Earth's protectors, years and years of genocide…and that one last devastating blow: Trunks, her beloved child, laying on the grass, his neck broken, his eyes vacant and dull…

The guilt shivered and twisted in her chest, retracting its claws.

"You failed…." She accused her absent friends, staring at her distorted reflection on the vile. "It's my turn now."

She slipped the vile in her pocket, picked the tray and abandoned the room.


End file.
